


Did You Miss Me Enough To Drink Or Did You Drink Enough To Miss Me?

by purecamp



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M, alcoholism is a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 10:16:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12430689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purecamp/pseuds/purecamp
Summary: sharon drinks far too much and sometimes can’t stop saying what’s on her mind. alaska doesn’t know if she misses her enough to drink, or if she simply drank enough to miss her. she never finds out.





	Did You Miss Me Enough To Drink Or Did You Drink Enough To Miss Me?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N - *to the tune of that weird egg song ginger sang in season 7* angst angst angst, all i write is angst. i guess this one goes out to anyone who has hurt me with angst (im looking at you wick). Okay but for real. I saw insp and then created a poem which turned into a fic. warning - sadness.
> 
> ^^ this is the artificialqueens a/n that i wrote at the time. this was written and posted jan 8th 2017

-did you miss me enough to drink or did you drink enough to miss me?  
you drank enough to miss me   
-you’re wrong  
i missed you enough to drink  
do you miss me?  
i didn’t think so  
-but i really really do  
-please don’t lie to me  
-i’d never lie to you

Did you miss me enough to drink or did you drink enough to miss me?

Like clockwork it happened again. Chunks of hours slipping by as Alaska scrolled through her phone. 12.45am. 1.32am. 1.57am. 2.43am. 3.29am. Like clockwork it was destined to happen again. Clearly Sharon was drunk. She was bad at typing when sober but this was so much worse. Nearly every word misspelt or mistyped in some way. Alaska had so many questions.

Did you miss me enough to drink or did you drink enough to miss me?

The message read, through the errors, “I’m drunk and I miss you.” But what did that mean? Sharon was drunk, and so she missed Alaska. Sharon missed Alaska, and so she got drunk. The two were vastly different but there was no way for Alaska to decipher which it was.

Did you miss me enough to drink or did you drink enough to miss me?

Of course she tried anyway, responding immediately with, “You miss me because you’re drunk? Or the other way around?” There had been no response. As quickly as she’d bombarded Alaska’s phone in the night, she was gone. Sharon didn’t even read the text. Perhaps she’d passed out, intoxicated. Perhaps she was scared. Perhaps she didn’t know the answer.

Did you miss me enough to drink or did you drink enough to miss me?

It kept happening. Irregular periods of time spaced out between each text, but they still appeared like clockwork in hours of the morning when neither should be awake, but they both were. Variations of I miss you, I love you and I need you punctuated with “I’m drunk” that left Alaska’s heart aching and her eyes spilling.

You drank enough to miss me.

Sharon was notorious for her alcohol drinking. She could swallow hard whiskeys as if they were glasses of water. Of course she was just drunk. It made perfect sense. Alcohol acts as a depressant and nothing was more depressing than the rocky, inevitable demise of something they once shared.

You drank enough to miss me.

After a while she stopped texting back. Stopped searching for answers. Stopped trying to pull Sharon away from her ever so busy social life to talk to her. Stopped torturing her bruised heart with the knife that told her Sharon didn’t care. She was just drunk. And they were just friends. And that was just it.

You drank enough to miss me.

It hurt, naturally. It stung when they did Halloween gigs together and Sharon talked about being glad to perform with her again, to the cheering of the fans and Alaska’s fake smiles. It stung when she appeared in post-performing footage, complaining about Alaska only responding with one word texts. It stung when Sharon’s twitter was full of ‘I miss you’s, ranging from Adore to Michelle to Detox to Phi Phi.

You drank enough to miss me.

So it was pretty damn clear. Sharon just missed everyone, and missed Alaska when she was drunk. There was nothing more to it. Just intoxication and blurred thoughts. Just drunkenness and the heady scent of nostalgia. Part of it was reassuring, knowing Alaska wasn’t special and this was just Sharon being Sharon. Part of it was utterly heart-breaking that she was little more than a number in the phone of an inebriated ex-lover. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just so.

You’re wrong.

Alaska distanced herself the best she could. She was even more popular now, after All Stars 2. She had new friends she could justifiably spend all her time with.

You’re wrong.

Katya, for instance. Katya was funny, crude, kind. She made Alaska cackle with laughter from all the weird shit she came out with.

You’re wrong.

With her, they just had a good time as friends. She was a hilarious distraction from her phone, which buzzed in the early hours of the morning with another drunken confession.

You’re wrong.

This was what she needed. A good, solid friendship with someone who knew not to mention Sharon’s name, lest her emotions spill through the cleverly-hidden cracks in her makeup-encrusted exterior.

I missed you enough to drink.

For what felt like the first time, but was most definitely not, Sharon was typing. The room was spinning and her fingers were fumbling over the screen, numbed from the cold and the alcohol and the cigarette burns from earlier. Disco music pumped her veins full of adrenalin but the beat did nothing to sedate her heart. Not even the shots that had ceased her ability to walk in a straight line had made her forget. She zigzagged, walking as she typed, careening into walls and lampposts and thinking of Alaska.

I missed you enough to drink.

Sent. This would be the last time she did it. It would. Too much drink and too much emotion had never meshed well; something she had learnt long before Alaska was a gaping stab wound in her heart. She wouldn’t do this again. This was the last time. But if this was the last time, Alaska needed to know how much she meant to Sharon. So she had to make sure the message got across clearly.

I missed you enough to drink.

Sharon couldn’t place that feeling. Not regret. Not embarrassment. Not dread. Whatever it was, the nameless feeling dug deep down inside her and buried itself in her chest, an added nauseating sensation to go hand-in-hand with the hangover. Alaska had text back, asking what she meant. Asking what she meant as if Sharon herself knew. Granted, she had a good idea of what she meant, but she couldn’t bring herself to open the text.

I missed you enough to drink.

Was it not obvious? Or perhaps Alaska didn’t care. She seemed pretty over it all. All her one word answers had finally dwindled to nothingness, and she was too busy to care anyway. All Stars 2 had taken over, rightfully so. Recently she’d been hanging out with Katya a lot. What did Katya have that Sharon didn’t? A bigger heart. The knowledge of when enough was enough. She didn’t drink too much and text Alaska at 3am. So Sharon spent Halloween with Trixie, and Trixie stopped her from texting Alaska at 3am. Trixie kept her sane. Trixie cried with her when she was too drunk to keep Alaska’s name out of her mouth and the Barbie was too heartsick to keep Katya’s name out of her mouth.

Do you miss me?

Eventually Sharon stopped texting, using a handy trick a friend had taught her. Her phone was turned fully off, so when she was blackout drunk to try and erase Alaska’s face from her mind, at least her thoughts stayed safely inside her war-torn mind instead of on her phone. But she still wished with every fibre of her being that maybe her drunken nonsense meant something.

Do you miss me?

Sometimes they hung out. They talked at the airport that one time when the flight was delayed. Alaska always greeted her with a wide smile and a hug, talking in that long, slow drawl about how much she missed her and really, they needed to talk more, perhaps they could arrange to perform at the Blue Moon sometime, and see some old friends… It didn’t sound real. Or maybe it did. Sharon hoped it was real. Maybe that was why her self-saboteur of a brain told her it was artificial.

Do you miss me?

Alaska would catch Sharon looking, occasionally. Whenever that happened, she either grinned and approached, filling herself with that Sharon Needles confidence and striking up a conversation, or she fell apart, hunching herself smaller and avoiding eye contact. The second had become increasingly common. Sharon tried her best to convince herself no one noticed.

Do you miss me?

Nothing would stop her from getting to this point though; crumpled on the floor in her bedroom, the black eye makeup that hadn’t been sufficiently removed streaming down her cheeks, drunk on vodka shots and beer with her phone in her hand. Pathetic, really. Drag off, heels on. Hair dishevelled from being underneath the wig. Hands shaking. Body shuddering. Unable to even produce sound through the loss of her voice from singing and the tears that rolled down her face.

I didn’t think so.

Sharon could feel it when Alaska hugged her. The awkward tension of her muscles. The way she held her breath. The fact that she kept her fingers flexed, not letting the long nails touch her skin. All of the little things.

But I really really do.

Alaska could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest. As amazing as it felt being in Sharon’s arms, even for just a friendly hug, her heart was in pieces. She tensed. She couldn’t let Sharon know how she felt, not now. Not when all those texts were just drunken wishy-washy messages that meant nothing to the other queen.

Please don’t lie to me.

It took all of Sharon’s willpower not to move her head from the crook of Alaska’s shoulder, where it rested, to connect their lips together for one last time. It would ruin their makeup, and since Alaska wouldn’t want it, most likely their friendship too, but there was always more makeup and what good was a friendship that teetered on the ruins of a tattered love story?

I’d never lie to you.

The hug had pulled apart yet still Alaska’s eyes lingered on Sharon’s lips, those full, voluptuous lips painted a seductive red colour. They were parted slightly, as if searching for the words that she wanted to say and preparing to say them. Alaska said nothing, just watching those lips moving. Regret filled her instantly, her mind screaming that she should have kissed her, but her rationale fought back with the response that at least she was regretting not kissing her, rather than Sharon regretting being kissed.


End file.
